A Dream Come True
by PurplePatchwork
Summary: One night Peter Kirkland gets a visitor, who takes him to a land where dreams come true. The question is: will Peter be able to keep track of what's really important?


There once was a boy named Peter Kirkland. He was quite the energetic young chap, always dreaming of sailing around the world when he grew up. He could often be seen running around town wearing a little sailor outfit, chased by his big brother Arthur.

Peter and Arthur did not always get along, but they had learnt to live with each other over the years. They had to, for their mother had died some time ago and their father had never been part of the scene.

The brothers never really talked about their deceased loved-one. Arthur because he wanted to remain strong, and knew he couldn't keep up appearances if they were to sit down and talk about it. And Peter… Peter never asked because the one time he did, Arthur had given him such a pained look it scared him into never asking again. So he kept it to himself. And every time he did think about her, he swallowed back his tears like a big boy was ought to do. "Stiff upper lip," as Arthur had once said.

And so they lived their lives, content with the way things were.

However, that was about to change.

It happened one night when Peter went to bed. The lights were out, his little sailor hat was placed on the nightstand, and Peter was already on the verge of tumbling into a state of slumber.

Or perhaps he already had fallen asleep, because suddenly there was a considerable weight lying on top of him.

Peter yelped as he shot up, and the thing lying on him rolled to the ground with a loud "Oof!"

"What on earth is happening here?" Peter shrieked. His hand fumbled with the light switch for a few moments while the 'visitor' sat up.

Once the lights were on, Peter could get a closer look at the person currently occupying the floor next to his bed. He had platinum coloured hair, blue eyes with a hint of purple to them, and he was wearing a white shirt with a bow, white boots, brown pants and a jacket.

"Hello there friend!" the visitor said cheerfully, before promptly having to shut up due to a pillow being flicked into his face.

"Get out of here before I call Arthur!" Peter hissed. "There is nothing for you to steal here, so be gone!"

The boy shook his head.

"Oh no, there's no need for that! I am not a burglar. My name is Emil, and I have come with a proposal dearest Peter."

"How do you know my name?" Peter asked, eyes growing wide.

Emil smiled as he stood up.

"Peter, I have come from the land of dreams and imagination, where everything you wish for comes true. It was there that I heard the tragic news about your mother."

Peter stiffened, but Emil continued.

"Now, for my proposal. Do you wish to see your mother again?"

Peter blinked, slowly letting Emil's words sink in.

"That… That is not possible."

Emil was suddenly really close, studying his face with a huge grin around his mouth. Peter quickly scooted away until his back hit the headboard.

"Did you not hear my description? Where I come from, anything is possible."

He held out his hand.

"Come with me, and you get to see her again."

Peter stared at that hand long and hard. He hesitated, but the promise of seeing his mother highly outweighed his distrust of the weird boy. Yes, Arthur had always told him not to go with strangers, but if Emil was telling the truth, then surely this would be an excellent exception?

Finally, a smile broke out, and he grabbed Emil's hand.

"I would very much like to go see my mum, Emil."

Emil grinned wider, and suddenly the room was spinning.

"I will take us there immediately!"

The spinning made Peter squeeze his eyes shut, fearing he might throw up if this kept on going. Luckily for him, they landed a moment later. Emil tugged excitedly at his sleeve.

"Open your eyes, Peter! We're here!"

As the little sailor did just that, he was overcome by awe. Everywhere he looked was everything a child could ever dream of. An amusement park without height restrictions or outrageously long queues, an all-you-can-eat ice cream and pancake buffet, something that looked like the literal Land of Milk and Honey, a deep blue sea stretching as far as the eye could see, toys scattered everywhere without having to share them with anyone, and that was only the beginning of the list.

"Welcome to my land, Peter? Do you like it?"

"Boy do I!" Peter exclaimed. "Can we try some of those rides?"

Emil nodded, took his hand, and together they ran off. They had fun for what felt like ages. Taking on the wildest rollercoasters, having a great time at the arcade, and there were even little sailing ships for the young men to try out.

At some point, while they were taking a break with the biggest sundae Peter had ever seen, a bird came flying over to them.

"Ah, why hello Mr Puffin! Meet Peter, our new friend!"

"Good day to you."

Peter was pleasantly surprised to hear the bird talking. Then again, Emil did say that nothing was impossible in this land.

"I must say Emil. We have been playing for all this time, and I still don't feel the slightest bit tired!"

Emil smiled that ever-present smile of his.

"Why of course you're not, my dearest friend! Here in the land of dreams, you don't have to feel tired ever again! The sun stays up all the time, the ice cream doesn't melt, and the fun is never-ending! Now hurry up and finish that sundae of yours, so we can go play some more after this!"

Peter laughed.

"All right then Emil! I'll be with you in a few more moments."

"Okay! I'll see you at the soccer field, we'll have more good times there!"

With that Emil walked off, a skip to his step as he whistled a merry tune.

Peter was about to put the last bit of ice cream in his mouth, when he became aware of a presence behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and almost dropped his spoon.

There, hidden in the shadows, was the looming figure of what had to be a monster. Peter screamed and ran off, frantically trying to put as much distance between himself and the creature as possible.

"Emil! Emil, I think I saw a monster!"

The other laughed as soon as he heard of his distress.

"Why, Peter! Of course you didn't! There are no monsters in the land of dreams! Only fun times and happiness! Maybe it was just silly Mr Puffin trying to give you a fright, mh?"

"I suppose…"

Peter was then hit by a sudden memory.

"Oh, that's right! I've been meaning to ask you. When are we going to see my mother?"

Emil laughed that delightfully chipper laugh of his.

"Patience, Peter! She will come, don't you worry! It takes some time for dreams to come true. In the meantime, why don't we play more games?"

And as Emil kicked the ball towards Peter, the boy's worries were quickly forgotten.

xoxox

Peter had no idea how long he had been playing with Emil now. Time seemed almost non-existent in this strange land, and his old Popeye watch had stopped working the moment he set foot on these grounds. Not that time really mattered. Here, there were no worries, no responsibilities, no frivolous things like having to sleep or go to the bathroom or feel hungry. Only an endless amount of playtime.

Naturally, when you're having such great times, a sudden change of pace can come as quite a surprise.

Emil and Peter were on their way to the beach, Emil excitedly running ahead while Peter took a moment to observe a cloud that looked strikingly much like someone's eyebrows, and Peter couldn't help but feel like he was supposed to know this person very well…

He was pulled out of his musings by a hand forcefully grabbing his wrist and dragging him behind a fountain.

"Hey-!" Peter began to say, but the newcomer placed a hand over his mouth and put a finger to his own lips, the universal sign for him to keep quiet.

Peter did shut up, but not quite because of that sign. He froze, because it was Emil sitting next to him.

"I am going to take away my hand if you promise not to scream," Emil said, his voice noticeably tenser and less jolly than it always had been.

Peter nodded, and Emil did as promised.

"How did you get here? Weren't you just over there?" Peter whispered, turning around and trying to look over the stone wall of the fountain. Emil immediately pulled him back down.

"Don't let him see us!" the boy hissed, casting a worried glance around him.

"Him…? What on earth are you talking about, Emil?"

Emil looked him dead in the eye, successfully silencing him. He looked so much older now, with his lips forming a straight line and the nervous frowning and tense shoulders.

"Okay, look here. I want you to listen very well to what I am about to say. You have to get out of here, Peter."

"Get out of here? Why would I want to do that? I am having the greatest time of my life!"

Emil shook his head and grabbed the other's hands, pulling the boy close.

"No! You have to understand, Peter! It's only a trick! You can't trust him! Have you already forgotten what you originally came here for? Think, Peter, think!"

Peter tried, but Emil's behaviour was starting to worry him.

"Emil, how can I not trust him when he is you?"

Emil opened his mouth to say something, but quickly snapped it shut when he could hear footsteps.

"Dammit…"

Peter looked up when Emil's head suddenly appeared.

"Here you are friend! What is taking you so long?"

Peter frowned and looked back at the other Emil, or at least at the place where Emil had been up until a second ago.

"How did you do that?" he asked, more than a little confused.

"Do what, silly? Come now, those waves aren't going to tame themselves!"

Peter quickly forgot about the whole incident. Or not completely.

There was something nagging him, something he was supposed to remember, something…

But what? Peter had no clue.

His adventure in the land of dreams continued.

xoxox

Emil and Peter were both sitting in a gondola of the Ferris Wheel, slowly rising higher and higher. Peter was having a great time, really. If only that strange feeling could leave him alone…

"Look, Peter! You can see all the way to the chocolate river from up here!"

Peter looked and smiled. He liked chocolate a lot. His mother used to make him a cup of warm chocolate milk whenever he had a nightmare.

The realization hit him as hard as a freight train.

His mother.

Peter's grip on the railing intensified as he pursed his lips together, forcing back the tears.

He had forgotten about his mother. Not only that, he had forgotten about Arthur as well. He was a despicable human being.

"-and after that we can go ice skating, and… Peter? Everything all right, friend?"

The boy shook his head. No reason to deny when he was so obviously distressed.

"When are we going to see my mother?"

Emil kept smiling, but Peter could see his hands twitch out of the corner of his eyes.

"Soon, my friend! But I told you wishing takes a lot of time. Since this is such a great request, it just takes a bit longer than most wishes. Don't worry ol' chap. You'll see her again."

Peter nodded, but the tension didn't leave his body.

He began wondering how much time he had really spent in this land of dreams. A couple of days? A week? Several weeks? Months? He had no clue.

What the boy did know, was that he wasn't planning on staying much longer. He wasn't going to let himself forget ever again. He just wanted to see his mother, give her a big hug, and then go home. To Arthur, and his friends.

Which reminded him. If this was the land of dreams and never-ending fun times, where were Emil's other friends?

Peter could never have foreseen he would find them very soon.

xoxox

They had been looking at the clouds. All Peter could see in them were memories of his life, and it made him very homesick. Emil had noticed his silence and tried filling it up with his own excited banters, chatting away about anything and everything. That is, until Peter suddenly stood up.

He had seen a house in the distance. House meant bed and television and computer, things he really missed right now.

"Where are you going, Peter?" Emil asked, quickly following behind him.

"I just want to see what's in there."

For the first time since the English boy had met him, Emil's smile looked a bit strained.

"I wouldn't go there if I were you, dearest friend. It's just an old storage room, really. Nothing fun to see there. Why don't we go have some soda, mh?"

Peter kept walking towards the house, ignoring Emil's suggestions for other things to do. As he was almost at the door, Emil suddenly blocked his way, smile a bit forced and eyes glistening feverishly.

"Now, Peter. I really do mean it when I say there's nothing of importance in here. Just boring gardening tools and the like."

Peter huffed and pushed him aside (how rude!).

"If it's nothing important, then surely you won't mind if I have a look."

Emil's smile disappeared for the tiniest of seconds, but Peter didn't notice. He was already turning the doorknob and pushing against the wood.

"See? It never hurts… to…" Peter gasped, his eyes widening at the sight in front of him.

"Look," Emil finished for him.

There, scattered across the floor, were dozens of bodies. Bodies of children, to be precise. At first glance you'd think they were dolls, with their soulless staring eyes and rigid pale skin. After closer inspection, you could tell they weren't. These children had once been alive. But something (or someone) had led them to their end.

Peter slowly turned around when he heard a giggle behind him.

Emil was smiling again, but it wasn't a happy smile anymore. His eyes had gone wide and his pupils tiny, his lips were curled up to show his teeth. This was the smile of a madman.

"I told you there was nothing of interest here, my dearest friend. Come, let us go play some more!"

Peter trembled as he stepped away. Away from the door, and away from the homicidal lunatic who had lured him here.

"What's wrong, Peter?" Emil asked, voice high-pitched and shaky. "Don't you want to play to your heart's desire? Doesn't this place have_ everything_ a child would ever want? Aren't you happy to be here with me, with your bestest friend in the whole world?"

Peter started running the moment Emil let out a crazed laugh, coming straight from his worst nightmares.

"Come play with me Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeter! Please friend, do stay!"

The adrenaline raced through his veins as he tried to put as much distance between them as possible. His legs soon started burning, but he kept sprinting as if his life depended on it. Which it did, really.

"Peter, think fast!"

The boy looked up just in time to see Mr Puffin soaring over his head, and he was able to duck before that sharp beak could scrape his scalp. The bird turned and was about to lunge at him again, when he was knocked clean out of the air by a pebble.

"Peter, over here!"

The little sailor screeched when a hand suddenly captured his wrist and began pulling him along.

"No, let go of me!"

"Hush, it's me!"

Peter looked, and saw the more serious Emil he had met all those (days? weeks?) ago. His hair was messier than last time, and he had huge bags under his eyes.

"I'm going to help you get out of here!"

The boy didn't exactly trust this Emil-doppelganger, or whatever he was, but he had no choice. This was a dreamland, and he had no idea how to escape it on his own.

"You've done well, Peter. I couldn't help you escape if you didn't remember your real life. That's why I couldn't help the others."

The child's head was spinning, both from an overload of questions and a lack of oxygen.

"Please stop! I can't keep running like this!" he panted, feet struggling to keep up with the demanding pace.

"No, we're almost there! Just a little longer, I promise!"

He promised, huh? How could Peter possibly believe him after what he had seen in the house? What if this Emil wanted him dead just as much as the other did?

Then they came to an abrupt halt. A few feet in front of them, a large portal could be seen. There was only one problem.

The other Emil was blocking the way.

His wicked grin was so huge it almost tore his mouth apart. His hair was no longer neatly covering his head, but sticking up in all directions, parts missing and showing sickly pale skin. His clothes were torn, and the distinct smell of death radiated from his flesh.

"Please Peter, don't do this to me. You're a good boy, aren't you? Then won't you just stay with me? Forever and ever and ever?"

Peter partially hid himself behind his Emil's figure, nearly wetting his pants (he certainly would have, had this been the real world).

"I don't want to stay here a minute longer, you psycho! I don't want to die!"

Emil snickered, even though there was absolutely nothing funny about this situation. He stalked forward, head jerking sideways in uncontrolled movements. The 'good' Emil moved with him, making sure Peter stayed safely out of his reach.

"Are you talking about my other friends, dear Peter? Ooh, but they're not dead, if that is what so disturbs you. They're simply resting! You see, I played with them for so long that they eventually got tired, and now they are taking a little nap. Nothing to worry about! But while they are sleeping, I needed a new friends to entertain me. Someone who would never leave me, because he's just such a _good_ friend!"

The good Emil growled, taking Peter with him as the bad Emil leapt forward.

"Emil, stop it," his calm voice sounded. "Stop this madness. You can't keep abducting children just to make them play with you. It's time to move on. _She_ won't ever come back."

The psycho suddenly changed his entire demeanour. Instead of crazily happy, his face suddenly morphed into something extremely angry. His hands turned to claws, and his smile was gone in a flash to be replaced by a beastly grimace.

"Shut up," he hissed, taking a threatening step forward.

"_Shut up_. You have no right to speak about her. I don't need a mother when I have friends! At least they won't ever leave me, won't ever make me feel so lonely!"

Without further warning, Emil lunged at Peter. The boy screamed when he felt the other's stone-cold skin slide against his, when he felt those claws scratching at his face, and he kicked and punched and squirmed and _oh God he was going to die here_-

Two strong hands slid under his armpits and lifted him up. The good Emil was dragging him towards the portal, struggling to get there before it was too late. The bad Emil grabbed onto his legs, trying to pull him back, and for a moment Peter was afraid his limbs would be separated from his body.

Then, with one final pull, he was freed from the madman's grasp, and successfully entered the portal. Right before it closed behind him, he could see pain and hurt written over Emil's face, as his empty hands still held imaginary legs.

"Please stay…" the madman whispered, looking so forlorn and lost all of a sudden, and Peter couldn't help the pang of pity that shot through his heart.

Then they were inside, the door shut behind, some sort of hallway before them.

"When we reach the other side, we'll be in your room," the good Emil said, as he helped him stand.

Peter nodded weakly, mind still buzzing with thoughts of ESCAPE, of danger lurking around every corner.

Emil began talking while they slowly made their way through the hallway.

"I am so sorry you had to experience that. If I had the power, I would make sure he never kidnapped another child ever again. Sadly, I don't."

"Why does he do that?" came Peter's hesitant voice, all energy sapped out of it.

Emil closed his eyes for a moment.

"The reason he chose you… He chose anyone really… It's because he lost his mother right before he died himself."

Peter's eyes widened at the realization that he had been spending all that time with a dead person, but Emil kept talking.

"He was so furious that she just left him like that, so lonely, so hurt… He took that pain with him when he passed away. It's because of those strong feelings that his so-called 'land of dreams' was created. There, he could bring as many friends as he wished for, and he would never have to feel alone again. It's also because of those feelings that he can't pass on to the real afterlife. His dreamland is like limbo for him, and he's stuck there until he learns to deal with his rage."

Emil sighed.

"He chooses children who have suffered the same faith, hoping they can understand his feelings. When they don't… I hope you realize those children weren't just asleep."

Peter shuddered, and Emil muttered a soft apology. He had seen enough death for a lifetime.

They were almost at the end of the hallway, when the strange boy suddenly grabbed his hands. Peter jerked and was about to snatch them back, when Emil spoke up.

"I beg of you, Peter. Don't make the same mistakes. The dead are to be remembered for who they were, not mourned over or hated for what they are now. Don't ever keep your feelings to yourself, don't ever be mad at her for leaving you alone. I don't want more 'dreamlands' to be created."

"I don't," Peter began saying, but then he stopped. He had wanted to say that he would never think of his mother that way, when a face popped up in his mind.

Arthur. Arthur did keep his feelings to himself, he did keep the pain from finding relieve. Maybe that's what Emil wanted him to understand…

They were at the other end.

"I wish you well, Peter."

"One last question. If that was the real Emil, then who are you?"

Emil smiled.

"Think of me as his guardian angel, if you want to."

After that he laid a hand over the boy's eyes, and suddenly everything went black.

When Peter could see again, he was in his bedroom. Everything was just as he had left it, and the alarm clock indicated it was a quarter to six in the morning. He was home.

The first thing Peter did was run towards his brother's room and jump on his bed. Arthur shot up, dazedly looking around.

"Wha- What's going on?"

Arthur was about to lecture his little brother for waking him up at such an ungodly hour, when he noticed the trembling little hump curled around his waist.

"Peter? What's wrong?"

The boy cried harder than he ever had before. The tears kept coming, and he was unable to speak. Arthur cautiously placed an arm on his back, not quite knowing what had gotten him so upset and how he should comfort his sibling.

When Peter did speak, he asked something that caught Arthur completely off guard.

"Please, Arthur. Tell me about mum. I want to hear everything you know, I need to hear it."

Arthur's face hardened, and he was about to tell Peter that he couldn't, when two hands tightly grasped his wrists.

"_Please_. I don't want you to be hurt. _Talk to me_."

They sat there for a whole five minutes, locking eyes for what felt like centuries.

Then, finally, Arthur sighed. His face softened and he gave his younger brother a tight hug.

"All right then lad. I give up. I'll talk if that's what you want."

Peter smiled and made himself comfortable in his brother's lap, relieved to find his happiness returned by the smallest of smirks.

Arthur talked, and they dug up all the good memories, and Peter comforted him when he finally allowed himself to cry over the loss he had blamed on himself for all that time.

Everything was going to be all right.

He was sure of it.


End file.
